


Brothers and Board Games

by MiniatureGlitterSoul



Category: Gravity Falls
Genre: Angst, Episode: s02e13 Dungeons Dungeons and More Dungeons, Gen, New Jersey, Probabilitor the Annoying - Freeform, Stan O' War, abuse mention
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-17
Updated: 2016-04-18
Packaged: 2018-06-02 21:16:47
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,101
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6582745
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MiniatureGlitterSoul/pseuds/MiniatureGlitterSoul
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dungeons, Dungeons, and More Dungeons--a game for ages eight to eighty! But will the game bring two brothers together, or drive a wedge between them?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Stan wandered through the comic book store, pausing every so often when a cover caught his eye. He wasn’t really looking to buy anything-–all his money was going towards new supplies for the Stan O’ War-–but he liked looking through the pages. Plus, he actually  _enjoyed_  reading comic books. They weren’t boring like textbooks or smart and stuffy like the nerd books Ford was always trying to get him to read-–they were fun and exciting, with action and heroes and  _babes_! He smiled and picked up the latest Iron-Man issue.  _Tony Stark always gets the babes…_

“Whoa, Stanley! Come look at this!” Ford’s voice called from another part of the store. 

Stan closed the comic book and went in search of his brother. The store wasn’t big, so it didn’t take long to find Ford standing in front of a new display. There were boxes stacked neatly on the shelves, and on the boxes was a picture of an old dude with a long coat and a stick, reaching out his hand.

“DUNGEONS, DUNGEONS, AND MORE DUNGEONS!” the big sign at the top of the display read. Ford was holding one of the boxes, reading the back of it.

“What is this? Some kinda card game or somethin’?” Stan asked, looking over his brother’s shoulder.

“It’s not just a card game, Stanley!” Ford exclaimed. “Listen to this-–” he cleared his throat and began to read from the back of the box. “ _Dungeons, Dungeons, and More Dungeons is a game of fast-paced logic and skill, where rolls of the die determine who will reign supreme. Is your dungeons secure enough to keep out troublesome trolls, or will your elves fall beneath the sword of your enemy?_ This sounds amazing!”

“I don’t know about all that, but that hot princess looks promising!” Stan said, elbowing Ford.

“Heh, so what do you think?” Ford asked with a little laugh. “Do you think we’d have fun?”

“I dunno–-maybe,” Stan shrugged. “It’s kinda pricey, though, and we’ve been saving up for the Stan O’ War… And there’s no way Pa’s gonna foot the bill for a board game.”

“You’re right…” Ford’s shoulders sank and his face fell. He put the box back on the shelf with all the others, but stood there staring at it for a moment.

“Have you played before?” a new voice asked from behind the twins. 

They both jumped in surprise and turned around. Behind them stood a couple of kids Stan had seen in the school hallways–-a girl with long blonde hair and giant hoop earrings, and a boy with short sandy hair and thick glasses. They didn’t look related, because that girl was  _way_  to hot to be that boy’s brother.

Stan turned on his charm.

“Never played it once,” he said, propping his elbow on Ford’s shoulder and leaning against him.

Ford stumbled to the side, apparently caught off-guard, but he steadied himself and stood there with a scowl on his face while Stan flirted.

“But maybe you could teach me?” Stan smiled and winked at the blonde, completely ignoring her disgusted expression.

“What he means to say-–” Ford interrupted, standing up straight and pushing Stan’s elbow away, “is that we just saw it for the first time, but we’d love to try it out. Have you two played Dungeons, Dungeons, and More Dungeons?”

“Yeah, we’re part of a D, D, and More D group that meets once a week after school,” the sandy-haired boy replied. “You’re welcome to join us sometime, if you’d like! We always love having new mages join us in the great quest to defeat Probabilitor!”

Stan decided that this kid was a little too excited over a board game, but Ford seemed to be sharing in this enthusiasm, so he decided to keep his mouth shut.

“Sounds great!” Ford said. “What do you say, Stanley? Wanna try it out?” Ford looked at his brother hopefully.

Stan thought for a moment. Usually they worked on the Stan O’ War after school… But maybe he could swing a seat next to that cute blonde. He smiled.

“Works for me.”

* * *

Later that week, Stan and Ford were sitting in one of the math classrooms with four other kids-–the blonde girl (who would  _not_  let Stan sit next to her), the sandy-haired boy, and two boys who were currently wearing matching pointy hats. The whole arrangement was making Stan a little uncomfortable-–he didn’t even like being in school when he  _had_  to be here, so being in a math classroom after normal class hours was a little bit like torture–-but Ford had been talking about this all day, and Stan didn’t want to leave him hanging, so here he was.

“Okay,” the sandy-haired boy began, “so the object of the game is to vanquish the evil warlock Probabilitor the Annoying-–” he paused, cut off by a chorus of “boos” from the boys in pointy hats. “And how we do that is through roles of the die that determine our character’s powers and the strength of our moves.”

“And then do we get to save that princess?” Stan asked.

“Yes!” the sandy-haired boy replied.

Stan smiled.

“And no,” sandy-haired boy continued.

Stan frowned.

“First we have to make a graph!”

“A graph?” Stan groaned. “Ugh, this is like ‘Homework: The Game’!”

“Come on, Stanley,” Ford said, “it could be really fun!”

Stan sighed as the sandy-haired boy went through all of the rules-–which took  _literally forever_. Stan put his elbows on the table and rested his head on his hands, trying to pay attention to all this stuff about wizards and trolls and the square root of thirty-three…

Turned out, Ford was right–-the game was fun! Stan got to race to the princess’s rescue on his trusty steed, defeat a raging dragon, and sweep the damsel off her feet! And there actually wasn’t any math involved! And it all seemed so real…

“Stanley-–Stanley!” Ford’s voice said from somewhere in the sky. 

Suddenly, the world was moving all around him–-and just as suddenly, he was awake, his face pressed against a desk. He sat up, blinking blearily. He was in the math classroom. The other kids were just walking out the door.

“Great game, Ford!” one of the pointy-hat boys called as he left.

“You too, Mike! See you next week!” Ford waved.

“What happened?” Stan asked as he rubbed his eyes.

“You fell asleep while Justin was explaining the rules,” Ford said. He pulled Stan up out of the chair. “Come on, we gotta get home before dinner, or Ma’ll have our hides!”

“Oh, right…” Stan said. He followed Ford out of the classroom, scratching his head. “So, I missed the whole game?”

“Yeah–-I tried to wake you up, but you wouldn’t budge. Have you been getting enough sleep at night?”

“Eh…” 

“Well, it was a really fun game,” Ford continued as the two of them walked out the school’s doors and into the setting New Jersey sunlight. “We all made our own dungeons, and then you have to make your way through everyone’s set-up, but there are all sorts of obstacles to get past-–oh, man, Justin put this great big pit at the center of his dungeon, and at the center of the pit…” 

Ford rambled on and on as they walked home, and Stan only interjected when there was a good joke to make. The word “buttress” brought up many joking opportunities, much to Ford’s chagrin. And even though Stan had slept through the game, it was still kind of fun to listen to Ford talk about it-–he was really excited, and he didn’t seem stressed about homework or their dad or their future… It was a nice change. 

But Stan was pretty certain he would have  _hated_  playing the game, so he was glad he’d taken a nap instead.

* * *

It was a few weeks later when Stan walked into the living room to find it overrun with nerds and graph paper.

“Whoa! What’s goin’ on down here, Sixer?” Stan asked, trying not to freak out over the sudden invasion. He’d been upstairs in their room, trying to figure out what still needed to be done on the Stan O’ War–-he’d just come downstairs for a soda, and now the TV was completely covered in weird diagrams.

“Oh, Stanley! We couldn’t use the school for our meeting tonight, since the school’s trying to get that seagull problem under control, so I invited everyone over here! Would you like to join us? We’re not that far into the game–-you could still jump in, if you want!” Ford smiled up at him, and the other kids all turned to stare at Stan.

Stan looked around at them all-–at the room–-at the  _graph paper_ –-and he swallowed hard. Ford had been meeting with these other kids once a week since that first game, and he’d always invited Stan. But the truth was…Stan didn’t really have anything in common with any of these people. They were all smart and weird-–like Ford. And Stan didn’t understand their game, no matter how many times Ford tried to explain it to him. It was just so…complicated. And there was so much math involved! He finally shook his head.

“Nah, you guys go ahead. I just came down to get a drink-–I’ve got important Stan O’ War stuff to get back to upstairs,” he said with a grin. He turned and walked into the kitchen.

“Stan O’ War?” he heard the blonde girl-–Megan–-ask.

“Oh, it’s just this-–uh–-boat thing Stan and I have been working on,” Ford answered.

Stan stopped in the act of opening his can of soda.

“Boat thing?” Justin’s voice asked.

“Yeah–-you know-–” Ford fumbled with his words.

_Why’s he sound so nervous?_  Stan wondered.

“Just a project,” Ford finally finished.

“Oh,” Justin said. He didn’t sound impressed or interested–-not that Ford had made it sound very impressive or interesting to begin with…

Stan frowned at his soda can, listening for a moment. Their conversation quickly turned back to the game–-which he wasn’t sure was written in English, with the words they were using–-so he finally walked back through the living room, heading towards the stairs. The nerds all stopped talking as soon as he appeared, which was weird, but he didn’t have anything to say to them, so he didn’t mind.

He didn’t mind.

He walked back upstairs, listening to their chatter continue. He heard Ford laugh, and then the others started laughing, too. What was so funny? They were playing a math game. There wasn’t anything funny about math.

Stan sat down on their bedroom floor and pulled his Stan O’ War drawings closer. He grabbed his “Stan O’ War To Do” list and his pencil. He chewed on the eraser for a minute, thinking...listening…

Ford laughed again.

Stan frowned–-but it was fine. It was good for Ford to have nerd friends. Right?

_Right_.

He pulled his pencil out of his mouth and wrote, “Fishing nets?” on his list. It wouldn’t be a bad idea to learn how to fish, especially if they were out at sea for a few days without docking-–not that they’d ever run out of food, of course… But better safe than sorry, right?

_Right_.

There was another roar of laughter downstairs. 

His grip on the pencil tightened.


	2. Chapter 2

Stan pounded another nail into the floor of the Stan O’ War, then drew his arm across his forehead. This was turning out to be one scorcher of a spring–-at least he and Ford would be on the beach all summer, with easy access to the ocean.

“Stanley!”

He looked up to see Ford walking down the beach towards him.

“’Bout time ya showed up, Sixer!” Stan smiled. 

“What are you still doing down here?” Ford asked. There was an element of panic in his voice and expression.

Stan’s brow furrowed.

“Uh, putting’ down boards-–what’ve _you_ been doin’?”

“It’s eight o’clock, Stanley!” Ford exclaimed, throwing his arms out to the side.

Stan turned and glanced at the sea behind him. Sure enough, the sun was setting over it.

“Aw, no…” Stan groaned. He’d missed dinner–-and he knew there wouldn’t be any leftovers waiting for him. He knew Ma would be upset–-and he knew that if Ma was upset, Pa would be even worse…

“Ah, no no no no!” he jumped up, looking around in a panic. He grabbed his tools, but tried to get out of the boat so quickly that he tripped and dropped them all in the sand.

“Calm down, Stanley-–” Ford said, stooping down to help Stan pick everything up.

“Calm down?” Stan repeated, looking up at Ford.

For a split second he wanted to punch his brother square in the face.

“I’ve been out here sweatin’ up a storm, workin’ two times as hard because  _you_  haven’t been here for weeks, and now I’m gonna get  _whipped_  for it–-and you want me to  _calm down?!”_

Ford stared at Stan, his eyes wide and his mouth half-open. His expression shifted, his eyebrows coming closer together and his mouth drawing down into a frown.

“I’ve invited you to play countless times, Stanley!” Ford said. “I  _wanted_  you to join us–-but you would just  _hate_  to be caught playing D, D, and More D with a bunch of  _nerds_. And it’s not  _my_  fault  _you_  lost track of time! I’m not just around to keep you in check!”

Stan glared at Ford, trying to decide if he was hurt or angry. He decided on both.

“You know, you’re right,” he finally said, standing up with his arms full of tools. “I  _don’t_  wanna play your dumb game, and I  _don’t_  wanna hang out with a bunch of nerds–-I only wanted to hang out with  _one_  nerd.”

Ford’s expression softened, his eyebrows rising on his face, and he opened his mouth-–but Stan turned away before he could get a word out.

“Stanley–-Stanley, wait!” Ford called after him, but Stan didn’t stop. 

He stormed all the way back to the house, through the door, and up to his room. His father attempted to yell at him, but Stan slammed the bedroom door closed. He dropped his armload of tools in the middle of the floor, not even bothering to kick them out of the way, then dropped onto his bed. He rolled onto his side, staring at the wall.

His eyes stung and he blinked hard. He felt stupid–-he shouldn’t have exploded at Ford like that–- _but he deserved it, the boat-ditching jerk…_  Stan brought his knees up to his chest, crossed his arms, and closed his eyes.

He fell asleep and dreamt of ocean waves.

* * *

The next morning was Saturday, so Stan woke early, gathered up his tools quietly, and slipped out of the bedroom without waking Ford. He still didn’t feel like talking to his brother. He left a note for Ma, telling her he was going to work on the boat–-apologizing for missing dinner last night–-then left the house.

The morning was bright and warm, and he could smell the ocean from here. He couldn’t help but smile–-sunny Saturday mornings were the stuff a good life was made of. The street was empty, save a few seagulls looking for food, and the world was blissfully quiet. Stan whistled a little tune, making his way down the street, onto the beach, and towards the boat.

He stopped dead in his tracks upon reaching it.

There, sprawled out in the bottom of the boat, was Ford, with his glasses askew. His mouth was open, and he was snoring slightly. Stan stared at him for a moment, baffled.

“Uh…Sixer?” he finally mumbled. 

Ford didn’t move.

Stan reached down and poked Ford’s arm. Ford usually wasn’t a heavy sleeper, but he didn’t budge now.

“Sixer,” Stan said, shaking Ford a little. “Hey, Ford!” he shook Ford harder and, finally, his brother stirred.

“The degree of the parabola!” Ford shouted, shooting into an upright position. His glasses fell off his face and his head darted from side to side.

“Whoa, Ford, it’s just me,” Stan said, putting himself in Ford’s line of sight.

Ford squinted at Stan’s face, finally seeming to understand what was going on.

“Oh,” he said. “Morning, Stanley.”

“Yeah, mornin’ to you too,” Stan muttered. He reached down and picked Ford’s glasses up off the sand then handed them back to his brother.

“Thanks,” Ford said, brushing off the sand.

The twins stood in silence for a moment.

“So, what are you doin’ down here?” Stan finally asked.

“Oh, I was…uh…” Ford put his glasses back on then looked around the bottom of the boat. He picked up a piece of paper then handed it to Stan.

“Stan O’ War To Do” the paper read. Stan looked down at the list. He looked at all the things that had been crossed off.

“It was only a little more difficult to do in the dark…” Ford said.

Stan looked up at him, mouth hanging open.

“So, you were out here all night?” he asked, looking over the boat. The bottom of was completely free of holes, and there was a net folded neatly near Ford’s feet.

“Don’t worry–-I told Ma, so she wouldn’t worry,” Ford said quickly.

Stan laughed, staring down at the list in his hands.

“I’m sorry, Stan,” Ford continued.

Stan glanced up at him.

“I know that my friends aren’t your sort of people–-and as much as I’d like you to like our game, I shouldn’t try to force it on you. And I’m sorry I’ve been neglecting the boat. I just…I got excited, I guess.”

“I know,” Stan said. He sighed. “And I shouldn’t be mad at you for that. I mean, what kind of a brother gets angry when his twin finds some nerdy friends?”

“The clingy kind?” Ford said with a little grin.

Stan laughed and punched him lightly in the arm.

“Yeah, well, you’re a sap, so…”

“What? How am I a sap?” Ford asked.

“You stayed up all night fixing’ our boat cuz you felt bad about ignorin’ me–-that’s pretty sappy!”

“It’s not sappy, it’s…remorseful!”

“Yeah, yeah, you keep tellin’ yourself that, ya sap…”

Ford laughed and shook his head.

“Come on, Knucklehead–-we’ve got work to do,” he said, holding a hammer out to Stanley.

Stan smiled.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I love both of these brothers so much so I had to give them a little bit of a happy ending. I wanted to keep it angsty--but I just couldn't.

**Author's Note:**

> I just kept wondering about why Stan hated DD&MoreD so much, so I decided to write some backstory. There is a second chapter, and it will be coming soon. (I couldn't post it all as one or it would have been waaaaaay too long.)


End file.
